A Year On Standby
by xOhxSnapx
Summary: Not HBP Compliant. Harry's the same. Hermione's Head Girl. Ron's got a crush, and Ginny has a big question to ask Harry. The trio's seventh year at Hogwarts could very well prove to be something confusing, if not a bit twisted.
1. Happy Birthday, Harry

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything in the HP world! I might own a few OC's, one or two at the most, but that is all!  
**Authours Note:** I am just a bit mental. I've decided to resubmit this in an attempt to finish this. It is in no way HBP compliant, and whatever ships I happen to write in here are always subject to change, as is the plot, because as is the plot is already horridly twisted as I started this over a year ago and then stopped two chapters in.  
**Summary: **"Dumbledore said that you'll be getting a Pensieve, Harry."

------

"_Oh, no body knows all the trouble I've seen.  
__Life is but a dream for the dead.  
__Well I can't go down by myself,  
__But I'll go down with my friends.  
__Take it like a man."  
__-My Chemical Romance_

**Happy Birthday, Harry.**

In the darkest of hours, late at night when most people are sound asleep in their beds, dreaming of dreams untold and miss informed dreams of the funny sort there are those who lay awake, wide eyed and wondering. Unable to assure their mind that everything will be fine, and that nothing will happen while they sleep. Even when the most horrible of things happen then. They lay there wondering, and waiting even for the sun to rise and the night to leave, and then they will greet the day with sleep filled eyes. Of course, this is not always the case.

For Harry Potter sleep is something of a fear. Afraid that if he sleeps, he will wake up the next day, and someone he loves will be gone. After all, people he love always, always are taken from him one way or another. The way that he has become used to however is the way of death. His parents had been taken from him, killed. His godfather as well had been killed. He had made a decision that no one else he loved dearly would die because of him, or for him.

Restlessly, Harry turned over in bed, kicking at the covers, kicking them off. The room was cold and he didn't mind. Beads of sweat had begun to form on his brow and he tired vigorously to wipe them away. His eye lids were already heavy from lack and want of sleep, still it was his subconscious mind that kept him awake. That kept him from falling asleep. Curling up into a ball, Harry looked around the room. It was big enough, even in the dark he could see. He hated it. As much as he had always wanted more space in a room, being in an empty house that was once filled with laughter, in a big room - well, there was nothing comforting about it.

Harry listened to the silence of the room, half expecting to hear a joyful laugh, and foot steps running up and down the halls outside of his room. There was nothing. The wood of the house groaned in the night, creaking. Harry sighed. He wanted to be anywhere but the Grimmauld Place. There was no one there besides himself and a few of the Order members, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, and Fletcher. Occasionally Snape would drop by, and that was never something anyone looked forward to. Dumbledore also paid a visit, and Harry did his best to have some homework to finish up in his room.

The Order members did their best to make Harry feel at home in what was now rightfully, by order of will, his home. There would be times in their trying to make him feel at home when all Harry wanted to do was ball himself up in a corner. Lately, he had been taking his pent up anger at yelling at the old portrait of Mrs. Black. In the beginning Lupin, Tonks, and Moody had constantly tried to get Harry to stop. No such luck. Now, whenever there was yelling about they all stood clear of that corridor.

In truth, Harry was incredibly bored. He hadn't been allowed to owl his best friends. And there were many a thing he wanted to tell them, too! Or at least, he thought there was. Sitting up slowly, Harry rubbed what sleep there was from his eyes and looked around the dark room once more. In the corner, fitted perfectly as Hedwig's cage. The owl hooted softly upon hearing the boy begin to stir and move about. "Sorry, Hedwig," Harry said softly into the night, looking at the cage. "Not tonight. You heard them. It's too risky. Maybe tomorrow night."

He doubted his own words very much. He wanted to let Hedwig out for just a bit, to stretch her wing, she was probably dying to do that. Just as he was dying to talk with his friends. Yawning Harry moved around, looking for his blue hood. Stumbling over a book to two, he finally found it, and with in its pocket was his wand, right where he had left it. Grinning faintly to himself he pulled the hoodie over his head and stuck his arms in the arm holes. Making sure that he had everything that he wanted, which wasn't much, Harry left his room, walking barefoot.

Harry wandered through the dark halls of the Grimmauld Place, the hair on the back of his neck rising, and the hairs on his arms and legs prickling. This always happened to him on his late night walks around the old house. The one problem with wandering the halls at night was Kreacher. Harry swore that Kreacher purposely ran into him at night, and when he did he would always reply with the same, "Kreacher did not see Young Master. It is much too dark for Kreacher to have seen Young Master." Never did Harry buy the old elf's story. Personally, he was waiting for the elf to keel over. Or for Moody to put him out of his misery. After all, Moody had been talking about doing that for quite some time. Three weeks at most.

Finally, Harry's destination was met. The kitchen. Slipping into the room Harry looked around. The kitchen was always more lit at night than the rest of the old house, and Harry liked that. The rest of the house was by far much to dark. The house even had a dark name, if you asked him. Lifting his head up just as he was sitting down, Harry heard the soft thud of small feet just out side the door, and he quickly stomped his foot, the soft thuds soon became a quick scamper until Harry couldn't hear them anymore.

"Bloody Kreacher," He grumbled quietly to himself as he propped his arms up on the table, staring blankly down at it. "Should be locked up and thrown into the lake at Hogwarts…"

"And eaten by the Giant Squid? Now, Harry, that's not very nice." Said a calm voice from the door. Startled, Harry looked up, nearly jumping out of his seat. He relaxed upon finding that it was only Lupin who merely smiled weakly to him before walking over, hands placed in his pockets.

"Professor," Harry started, that being the only thing that felt right to call him by. "What're you doing up still, shouldn't you be.. I dunno, sleeping?" he asked tiredly, only to receive a small light hearted chuckle, and another simple smile.

"I could ask you the same thing, Harry." Was the reply he had gotten from Lupin. Sheepishly Harry sunk into his chair. "I couldn't sleep."

At that Lupin seemed to have stiffened a bit, Harry mentally shook himself; that was a stupid thing for him to have said. The older man looked directly at Harry, arching an eyebrow, resting one arm on the table. Harry could tell already that the full moon was approaching. Lupin looked as tired as he could get, he had bags under his eyes, and his eye lids, it seemed to Harry were straining to stay open - may be it was just a trick of the light. "Not like that," Harry said quickly in his defense. "I haven't even fallen asleep yet. I mean I'm tired but I just can't sleep."

"Harry, you need sleep." Said Lupin.

"I know." Harry said.

"Were you thinking of something?"

"Yes, but I don't think-"

"What were you thinking of, Harry?"

Harry glanced up only to find Lupin looking at him. It wasn't anything new for him, to be looking away from someone while talking to them and then turning back around to find them looking at him. It was always happening to him. Once again he looked back to the table with an intake of breath. "My parents and Sirius," He said quietly, not daring to look up at his old professor who had merely nodded at him. He was almost afraid to look up, afraid more over of the reaction he would get. All summer they had been all he could think about.

He tired everything he could to remember anything about his parents. He had no luck. After all, he was only a year old when they had been killed. All he could remember was green light, and as he still remembered from his third year at Hogwarts, his mother and father's last words. They still sent shivers down his spine. And no matter how hard he tried he could not get the image of Sirius falling through the veil.

The pain of Sirius' death had finally settled, and he had come to terms with himself that he would not be coming back anytime soon. He was never going to come back. Deep down Harry still blamed himself, more toward the surface he blamed Dumbledore. Harry now had his own personal grudge type of thing against Dumbledore for the events of which had taken place back in his fifth year. And some of the events that had happened last year - even though nothing had really happened last year, just more people tagging after Harry, making sure that he didn't get into too much trouble. And that just got annoying after awhile.

"They're not really gone, you know that, Harry," Lupin said, placing his other arm atop the table, glancing past Harry toward the back door of the kitchen briefly.

"I know," Harry said, pausing. "You've told me before."

"I did. They'll always be with you. You mum, dad, and Sirius. They're here with you this very moment."

"Sure doesn't feel like it." Harry mumbled, staring hard down at the table. Lupin frowned.

"Harry, your mother had wanted a child ever since she had James married, and when she found out she was pregnant with you her eyes lit up. Everyone noticed it. James had hoped, and hoped for a boy that he could fly a broom with," Lupin said smiling as he glanced at Harry who's head hung between his shoulders. "When you were born it made James and Sirius so happy. Sirius because he wouldn't have to be the godfather of a girl, and that he was just a godfather. James - well, because he had you. To both Lily and James, Harry, you were their world. At two months you were already starting to resemble James, you craved the attention you got. And now, you are as caring as your mother, and every bit like your father."

"So I turned out alright then?" Harry asked, glancing up at his old professor. "How they would have wanted me to be?"

Lupin smiled. "Exactly as they would have wanted you to be. How they hoped you would be. They are proud of you Harry, Sirius too. You would have made them proud parents. I imagine that right now they are all dreaming. The three of them."

Harry didn't know what to say. The dead dream? That was almost unheard of. Actually, it was unheard of. At least to Harry. "Professor," he started slowly. "They're dead. What can they be dreaming of?"

"Life, Harry. Life is but a dream for the dead."

"Do you s'pose they're dreaming that we're all together again," Harry asked before he slumped in his chair a bit more. "Like we were once?"

"Yes. I believe that is exactly what they are dreaming about, Harry." Lupin said just before he stood, still smiling weakly at Harry. With a glance at a near by clock he sighed, turning once more to the boy. "Right then. Off to bed with you, Harry. Big day tomorrow I hear?"

Harry snorted softly at that. Big day indeed. "Seventeen tomorrow. An age I thought I'd never reach," he said with a small grin as he to stood up. "See you tomorrow, Professor." Was all that Harry said before he made his way out of the kitchen, Lupin playfully ruffling his hair as he passed by.

Harry did go back to his room, slowly however. He was taking his time. While he now felt like he could fall asleep the moment his head hit his pillow, he was in now rush to enter that dark and empty room of his. It was void of so many things, and he had hardly anything to fill it with. As he walked he also began to wonder why he hadn't been allowed to owl his friends. Summer was pretty much over, and the only type of human interaction Harry had gotten over the summer was from the members of the Order. Not that he was complaining or anything, it would have been nice to converse with people his own age.

And Harry did miss his friends terribly.

Once Harry was back in his room He stared blankly at his bed for a moment, his eyes almost transfixed on it. "Kreacher - get -out - of -my -room." Harry said pointedly upon hearing padded foot steps in the room. There was a wheezy squeak before a line of curses, and words Harry was sure weren't even real. "Kreacher, I mean it. Get out," he said once more before there came quick scampering and something brushed past his legs. Rolling his eyes, Harry shut the door, and made sure to lock it. The room was still as cold as when he had left it. And just as dark. He felt like the only thing that he could do now was sleep. After all, it was rather late, and he was quite sure that his subconscious mind would finally let him sleep after the short chat with Lupin. It had calmed him in a sense, even if the undying pain was still there.

He would be able to put it to rest for the night.

"Night, Hedwig," Harry called to his owl as he slipped into bed. Carefully taking off his glasses and setting them on the bed side table. He didn't bother to look up at the ceiling this time. Harry simply pulled the covers around himself, kicked his legs once before drifting off soundly into sleep. The chill of the room finally evident to the boy as he shivered in his sleep.

Somewhere with in the house, a clock struck twelve, and twelve chimes went off. Tonks and Lupin who were still up, discussing things paused briefly. Lupin smiled weakly and Tonks grinned. "Happy birthday, Harry," they both said at different times, looking at a wall clock before continuing their conversation.

----

"Harry! C'mon, mate, get up!"

"Oh, Ronald, stop. He's sleeping, or haven't you noticed?"

"I can see that, Hermione. I'm not blind, I'll have you know."

Ron Weasley did nothing but scowl momentarily as his friend Hermione Granger simply rolled her eyes as she glanced around the room. On the floor beside Harry's bed was a pile of books, scrolls of parchment, quills, and inkwells. Over in the far corner was not only Hedwig's cage, but Harry's school trunk as well, which was open and had a wide rang of Harry's shirts hanging off the sides of it. To Hermione it looked like any room belonging to a teenage boy. She let out a frustrated sigh just as Harry began to fidget in bed.

"'Bout time," Ron grumbled to himself.

"Ron!" Hermione interjected before Ron had a chance to say anything else. However, the redhead only hunched his shoulders sheepishly, muttering a quick 'sorry' just as Harry's eyes fluttered open, and he blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light in the room. Awkwardly, Harry looked up into the faces of his friends, who just looked down on him for a moment. Harry broke out into a grin before finally reaching over and putting on his glasses. "Hey guys," Harry said groggily in greeting to his friends, having just woken up of course.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Hermione said, beaming brightly down at her best friend. She moved away a bit, tugging Ron back by the collar of his shirt so that Harry would have some room to get out of bed, this caught Ron off balance and for a moment he stumbled back. Harry laughed and shook his head as he got out of bed. "Just get here?" Harry questioned before he walked into an adjoining room which had to be a bathroom, though he left the door ajar so that he would still be able to converse with Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah, Mum was itching to see you, Dad too, but he had work today," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Lupin said that you were probably still sleeping, but he let us in your room anyway-"

"He also said not to wake you. Isn't that right, Ron?"

"Come off it, 'Mione. Harry's up now. Besides, who wants to stay in bed all day on their seventeenth birthday?" Ron fussed, crossing his arms, looking pointedly at Hermione. Harry in the bathroom laughed.

"Obviously you, Ron. If I remember correctly you were in bed until well after noon," Hermione tutted, clicking her tongue. She took up a seat on the edge of Harry's bed. Ron grumbled something to himself just as Harry walked out of the bathroom, rubbing the back of his neck, a grin clearly written on his face. "Sounds like Ron to me. Yeah, I reckon that's something he would do," Harry said throwing a grin toward Ron. "Where's everyone?"

Hermione smiled. "Oh, you know them. All over the place. Dumbledore stopped by just after we got here," she said from where she sat, still eyeing the mess that was sprawled about the floor. She shook herself. "Lupin told him you were sleep, so naturally Dumbledore just checked in on you when Ron first started trying to wake you up."

Simultaneously, Ron and Harry snorted with diverse laughter. Each for their own reason. Ron's reason having been that _he _had only tired to wake Harry up twice, while Hermione was making it seem like he had been attempting the task possibly about twenty or so times, when in truth it had only been something of ten attempts. Each time he had no luck, which was quite tiring. Harry's reason for snorting was he was amazed himself that Dumbledore wasn't the one who tired to wake him. Through out the summer the old man had been trying to reason with Harry, and Harry kept walking away, convinced that he wasn't yet ready. He wasn't ready to hear anymore of what lay ahead of him, and what it was exactly that he had to do.

How could anyone expect to be ready for that? Harry had been watched ever since he was baby. People used to bow to him in the streets, and he didn't know what for. His life had never been the same after he had entered Hogwarts. Each year he faced some task almost exactly like the other; stay alive and keep people safe, outsmart Voldemort. Kill or be killed. What kind of way to end things was that? Harry would have been more light hearted about this had everyone not scolded him for making jokes of it.

"Come on, Harry. It's almost noon. You've been in here long enough," Hermione said as she began her walk to the door, ignoring the strange look she was getting from Ron for the quick change in the subject. However in the end he just looked at Harry with a shrug of his shoulders, as he walked along with Harry to the door. "Everyone's dying to see you."

"Yeah, no kidding. Merlin, you should have seen Mum and Ginny last night," Ron said with a roll of his eyes before he looked over at Harry. "They couldn't believe that you didn't go back to your aunt and uncle's for the summer."

Harry snorted softly. "Yeah well, with Dudley going on about Peter Pan was best thing he'd ever read I don't think I could take spending my last summer there," he said with a groan. "If I'd have stayed Dudley would probably have been chasing me around the house with a wooden sword saying he was Peter, and I was Captain Hook. I bet he would have even tried to cut my hand off, too. And he's supposed to be older."

"Doesn't seem like it though, does it?" Hermione commented.

"No kidding. Blimey, and I thought my family was mad -"

"They are, Ron"

"Beside the point, Harry."

"Oh, that reminds me," Hermione said just as they were rounding a corner. "Dumbledore said that you'll be getting a Pensieve, Harry."


	2. Something To Talk About

**Disclaimer: **You should know I don't own these guys! So sad.  
**Author Notes: **Eh, not much to say. Slow, slow start. Yes. That is it. A slow start.  
**Summary: **"Didn't you read the paper?"

- - - - -

"_There you go  
__You're always so right  
__It's all a big show  
__It's all about you  
__You think you know  
__What everyone needs  
__You always take time  
__To criticize me."  
__- Simple Plan_

"_Dumbledore said that you'll be getting a Pensieve, Harry."_

Harry nearly stopped in his tracks at Hermione's words. Great. Now the old man was telling his friends what was going to be happening. Wonderful. What next? Would he start keeping Harry's school marks from him as well? It wouldn't surprise him in the least. For once, he wished, that people would be straight with him, and not try to slide around what they were actually trying to say. That sort of thing had been going on a lot lately. It had all started around two weeks after he had gotten to the Grimmauld Place. Harry had simply asked Lupin and Tonks what they had thought of Sirius' death, after all he was still mourning at the time. The two did their best to smile, and say things like "He did it to save you, Harry," or "It's not your fault." Harry hadn't even been asking them of that. Didn't they get it? He was asking how they felt.

Or maybe he was over looking things. Very likely. However, that was not what the thing that happened to be on his mind as of the present moment.

He was trying to figure out why on earth Dumbledore would be giving him a Pensieve. While they did interest him, they also scared him in a sense. They could be wonderful, Harry understood, for someone wanting to learn about the past. They had shown him what his parents had been like when they were about his age, and why Snape seemed to loathe him as he did, more over the reason why he loathed his father. Harry had also seen the trials of Death Eaters, and that was what possibly scared him about Pensieve's. One could never be to sure of the things that one will seen within one, for they held that of memories. Still, Harry had to wonder why exactly he was getting one. It wasn't like he needed it. He rather liked his memories. Good and bad.

Harry mentally shook himself as he looked from Ron and Hermione. In their own ways they had changed. Hermione, he could see, had clearly done sometime outside. She had a tan, but not one that you would take notice to right away. Her hair had also become less of a tangled-bushy mess to where it was now simply frizzy curls, strangely it rather suited her. With Ron however, he could see the difference. He too had a tan, darker than Hermione's, and if possible he had gained a few more freckles, and an inch or two more in height. Too Harry, it also looked as if Ron was in need of a hair cut.

"Harry, are you listening? Christ, mate, how late were you up?" Ron said suddenly, breaking Harry's train of thought. "Oi, Harry! Blimey, maybe we should have left you to sleep."

Hermione snorted bitterly at Ron's words, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure." She said hotly. "Now you admit it! _You_ should have left him to sleep, Ronald Bilius Weasley." Ron groaned loudly, placing his head into his hands upon hearing his full name in use. And to think, it was the second time she had said it today! The third time altogether. His mother had called him by it shortly before leaving the Burrow when he had purposely left Pig in his room. Bloody owl. Why, why was he cursed with that name? He'd give anything for a better one, or so it seemed.

Harry only grinned. Well, it was good to know that those to hadn't changed, he figured. That was one great thing about Ron and Hermione, ever since he met the two of them, they never really seemed to have changed. And that was good, one thing was for sure - Harry didn't take to change well. He could take some bits of it, but others well lets not go there, shall we?

"Still haven't figured out 'Mione's full name then, Ron?" Harry asked, looking up and over to Ron who continued to sulk as the three of them walked. "No," was all that Ron said, however, it came out as more of a grunt. Hermione chuckled.

"Of course he hasn't." She said, clicking her tongue once more. "He hasn't asked yet."

Ron snorted. "Oh, well in that case. Hermione, will you _please_ be as so kind as to tell me your full name?" He said in all mockery of politeness, rolling his eyes at the same time Hermione rolled hers. Harry of course blinked.

"Oh, _of course_." Hermione said stiffly, rolling her eyes again. "It's Hermione Jane Granger."

Ron, who seemed not to be able to help himself, snorted with laughter. Hermione sent him death glares, which he should have become used to by this point. Of course, these glares of hers were having only one effect on the boy: They were causing him to laugh even more. Finally giving up, Hermione sighed, and clicked her tongue twice. Harry could only grin. He had known Hermione's name before Ron had simply because he had asked her before he had. Nearly everyone knew his name, so there wasn't much of a shock there when he was finally called by his full name thanks to Hermione. It had only startled him because of the tone she had used. It reminded her deathly of Mrs. Weasley, and he wasn't sure of if that was a good thing or not.

The rest of the trip to the kitchen for the Trio had been quiet. Every now and then they would spark up some type of conversation, and throughout it Hermione would interject that this would be their last year at Hogwarts; the place that had brought them all together as friends. In the pits of each of their stomachs, each of them wondered silently to themselves if after this year, would they see each other again, outside of the whole Order thing? It was a rather scary thought for Harry. He might not be seeing his first two actual friends after this year. While it was still very unlikely, it gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"… Oh, that's stupid, Ron. The Transfigurations homework wasn't even hard at all," Hermione sighed, and to Harry it sounded rather random until he had noticed that he had been zoned out of a good amount of the conversation. They were talking about homework - Transfiguration homework at that. Glad for once that he had actually done at least that, Harry grinned, looking over to Ron who was once more scowling down at the floor. "All you've got to do is write an essay on Intermediate Transfiguration, and list the types of spells that follow under that, and their uses. It's not hard at all."

Ron grunted, still staring hard at the floor. "Says you," he murmured. Hermione clicked her tongue again. The two would never change, or so it would seem. The three of them had been friends for such a long time. It had become impossible to tear them apart, and even in doing so they would always find a way to contact each other. Unless the Order thought it not a good thing to do. Which they had been thinking for quite sometime now. It wasn't really as annoying as it sounded, but to them it was like not being able to send a letter to a sister or brother, and everyone knew that wasn't right. People that close should always be allowed to keep in touch, even in times such as these.

Harry snorted at something Ron had said concerning Malfoys, pink ferrets, and thorns. However, he let his mind wander. First he thought of Draco Malfoy being attacked by rabid ferrets, and then falling into a garden of thorns. And then he thought of Malfoy as a ferret tangled, and covered in thorns. Each thought amused him to no extent. He actually snorted once causing both Ron and Hermione to stop in their tracks shortly leaving Harry to round the next corner into the kitchen snickering as he went.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" A small group of people called at once upon the raven haired boy arriving. From the back there was a late greeting of happy birthday that Harry made out as Tonks. He smiled. This was going to be a good day indeed.

"Wotcher, you lot," Tonks called loudly from the back waving her arms as Ron and Hermione finally came in after Harry, Ron grinning, and Hermione smiling. "About time you got the birthday boy up. How long did it take? Twenty tries, ten maybe?" At that Hermione rolled her eyes, and of course Ron's grin broadened.

"Ten! Took ten tries to get 'im up," Ron declared earning himself a snort from Hermione and a laugh from Harry.

"Remus! Oi, Remus! You hear that?" Tonks laughed, jumping down from a counter making her way to the other side of the room to where the old werewolf stood. "Ten Sickles, you lost, I won, pay up." Everyone in the room heard Lupin groan before eventually reaching into his pockets for a pouch of coins where he finally pulled out ten Sickles, and with the fakest of all scowls, handed them over to Tonks who had clapped her hands together and laughed. That was the third time this summer she had won a bet with Lupin. Oh, it was amusing.

Harry moved around the kitchen a bit making his way to one of the less crowed counters to have a lean, Hermione and Ron of course followed. "Dumbledore came by then?" He asked, looking over at his two friends. "This morning I mean, before I woke up." After that was said a silence fell upon the three of them and Harry looked off to the side, avoiding the gaze of both his friends, and in the distance he heard the droning of a cluster of people talking to him, and occasionally he would hear someone wishing him a happy birthday. Harry tired his best to remain calm, in truth, it was rather hard. He still hadn't gotten an answer from Ron nor Hermione.

On the other side of the room he saw people began to make a path, though there wasn't many people to begin with, just Order members. They were making a path from the door that lead in from the hall to the kitchen, all the way to the table in the dead center of the room. Then the lights dimmed, and Harry knew instantly what was going on.

In walked Moody and Snape, carrying what was undoubtedly Harry's cake, lit up by seventeen candles. The candlelight cast an eerie glow upon Moody's face with his magical eye rolling around in its socket, and the faint traces of a smile on his otherwise blank face. Snape, however, looked as if he had smelt something rather foul (this caused Harry to choke back a laugh), it seemed clear that he had been forced into doing such a task as bringing in the cake.

At least Snape hasn't changed, much, Harry thought hopefully unable to hold back a snort as Ron push him forward, towards the two as they finally set the cake down.

As Harry approached the cake, the room burst into song, a song that Harry hadn't heard once in his life with a large group of people. Needless to say this sent shivers down his spine, and he could no longer hold back a grin.:

"Happy Birthday to you,  
Happy Birthday to you.  
Happy Birthday dear Harry,  
Happy Birthday to you."

They repeated the song twice before Tonks, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George all shouted, "Wish! Harry, make a wish and blow out the candles!"

Harry stared at his cake. It was round and decorated as a Quidditch Pitch and right in the center of it was a frosting golden snitch. Seventeen, and finally having a real birthday. Last year things had been a little too hectic for one, but he did get a few presents, and Lupin even took him, Hermione, and Ron to Diagon Alley for the day. But now, as Harry looked at his cake he thought back a few years, back to the old shack, on the eve of his eleventh birthday. He had counted down until his birthday, and something in him triggered in him.

He closed his eyes. Ten. He thought of a wish. Nine. His parents came to mind. Eight. He was seventeen, at last. Seven. Maybe if he just wished hard enough. Six. Everything would be alright, it would be ok. Five. He wanted to share this moment with his parents and Sirius, with family. Four. The people around _were_ his family, the closest he had now. Three. He _was_ happy. Two. Harry couldn't wait to be back at Hogwarts. One.

_Make a wish, Harry_.

Harry blew out the candles.

Everyone in the kitchen clapped. Hermione threw herself on to Harry in a hug. Ron grinned, a lightly punched Harry in the arm. Fred and George had linked arms, and were now foolish dancing around the kitchen, grabbing a hold of Ginny, bringing her into the dance. Harry felt relieved to know that at least his birthday was going well, though he couldn't take his eyes off the cake. It was an actual cake. And he would be able to share it with friends.

Harry was now a legal wizard. He was now allowed to use magic outside of school, and with this being his last year at Hogwarts a grin spread across his face, though it slowly dissipated when he heard a calm voice from the entrance to the kitchen, and everyone turn their heads.

"Happy Birthday, Harry." It was unmistakably Dumbledore, and while Harry didn't give him a response as soon as he should have, he was debating whether or not to return to his room, or simply ignore the man.

"Thank you, Professor," He grumbled, before pushing himself back against the counter, staring down at his feet. He felt like all eyes were on him, and he felt closed in now that Dumbledore had arrived. Though everyone had returned to their previous conversations Harry stood with Ron and Hermione, just barely listening to the two of the talk. They were once again on the subject of Transfiguration homework. Harry pondered letting Ron copy his essay, or at least parts of it anyway. At least then maybe Hermione would stop bickering at him for not having his homework done.

Inwardly Harry wondered what the day would have been like had Sirius been there with the rest of them all. He could imagine a lot more laughter, and a lot more chatter. Then Harry caught sight of Snape again, and it still looked as if the man had caught wind of something foul even now as he was talking with Dumbledore. Then Harry saw it for the second time. Dumbledore looked scared. Harry's brows arched as he studied the older men talking in the front of the room before being ushered up to the cake once more, this time that had forced a cake cutting knife into his hands for him to cut the cake.

Blankly, Harry made the first cut, and he pulled the first piece out and handed it to Ron. He cut out five more pieces before calling it quits, and letting people cut a piece of cake for themselves. Hermione, Ron, and himself took up seats on the back counter, Ginny sitting on the floor in front of them, each eating their piece of cake idly.

"What do you reckon is wrong with Dumbledore?" Ron blurted before a mouth full of cake. Harry's head shot up back to the direction of Dumbledore, only to see that now he was talking with not only Snape but Lupin, and Tonks. Hermione followed Harry's gaze, setting down her fork.

"Maybe he lost his favorite pair of earmuffs," said Harry sarcastically.

"That's not funny, Harry. He looks really worried." Hermione scolded, sounding worried herself as she gazed at the old Headmaster. From the ground Ginny shook her head. "Didn't you read the paper?" She asked suddenly, not even looking up from her plate.

"Of course," Hermione exclaimed quietly to the group. "The whole wizarding world knows that today is Harry's birthday. That means the Death Eaters know he's legal now as well. Obviously Dumbledore suspects something I just dunno what-"

"What if that's not the case, Hermione?" Ron jumped in, cutting her off.

Harry snorted. "What else could it be, Ron? Look at the facts, Voldemort wants me dead, we all know that. The Death Eaters will do anything to get me away from Dumbledore, or Hogwarts, and I'm legal now. So that means-"

"So that means they can try to lure you away from Hogwarts some how, away from Dumbledore, and rightfully he can't do anything if you just decide to leave." Hermione finished. Harry nodded. Ron continued to stare at the two of them before looking down to Ginny.

"How do they do that?" Ron asked his sister before looking back up to Harry and Hermione. "How do you two do that? Know what the other means-"

"It's all the facts, Ronald." Hermione answered offensively before shaking her head as she gave one last glance to Dumbledore. "Clearly Dumbledore sees that, or something else entirely."

Ginny sighed, setting her plate down on the ground. She tilted her head up to look at the three. "So, Harry," she started, getting ready to change the topic. "What did you wish for?" She asked, leaving Hermione and Ron quite dumbfounded, but seconds later they looked as if they two wanted to know what it was that Harry wished for.

"Sorry, Ginny," Harry said with a grin. "Can't tell you otherwise it wont come true."

"Well said Harry," came a new voice that everyone knew. Professor Dumbledore. It made the four of them jump, Ron almost losing his fork, Hermione nearly sliding off the counter, and Harry hit his elbow on the wall behind him. Inwardly, Harry sunk deeper into himself as he found himself looking up at Dumbledore, the old mans eyes twinkling, as they always were. "Wishes should always be kept a secret for they are one of the hearts many desires. And to every man his own. Keep them close, Harry."

Harry blinked before looking down to his plate. "Er, right. Okay." He said before looking down to Ginny who just looked back up at him and shrugged. He heard the clank of Hermione dropping her fork once more.

"Sir, we'll be staying here the rest of the summer, won't we?" Hermione asked slowly, as if she was unsure of whether or not she truly wanted to hear the answer. However, the rest of them knew plenty well what the answer was and could only shake their heads wondering what she was up to, though neither of them could muster so much as a little idea.

Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling from behind his half moon spectacles and at that moment Hermione too knew the answer that she wanted. "Indeed, Ms Granger, yes. Until September comes, and school starts."

"Great," said Harry cheerfully, making heads snap his way. "Wake me up when September comes, would you?"

Hermione chose to ignore the statement from Harry while Ginny giggled, and Ron grinned. Even Dumbledore seemed to have found the small comment amusing as he chose to chuckle. "I'm sure that you will find much to keep you with, Harry. I am quite sure of it. However, I am sad to say that I must be leaving you all for the day. Ms Granger, Ms Weasley, Mr. Weasley, good day to you all, and Harry, happy Birthday." It was with that, and a final smile to the group that Dumbledore at last took his leave, albeit that he said his goodbyes to others in the room as well.

Hermione beamed proudly to herself for a moment as she silently chewed on a piece of her cake. No one seemed to have noticed her triumphant look, or the small scoffing sound she had made once Dumbledore had left (Well, Harry did, but he had thought it was for the same reason he almost chose to scoff; glad that Dumbledore had left, thus chose not to comment). It took at least two minutes before Ron finally looked up, after discussing Quidditch with Harry, and the different ways that Gryffindor could go on about playing this year. He cocked his head to the side, furrowing his brows together, wondering what exactly Hermione was thinking. He kicked Harry in the leg.

The Raven haired boy looked up at Ron, mouth open as he was about to ask why he had just kicked him when he too caught sight of the look on their friends face. The two of them just sat there in wonder while they stared at Hermione, neither wanting to know exactly why she had that sort of look on her face, but then they did want to know.

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny sighed from the ground, readying herself to get up once. When she finally stood she set her plat down next to Ron's leg and shook her head.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"She's got the look."

"Well of course she has _the look_, Gin. How else are we supposed to know that it's our Hermione?"

"Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione commented breaking her own silence. "Of course it's me," she scoffed taking another small bit of her cake, the same triumphant look on her face as she chewed merrily away.

"Hermione," Harry started, setting his own plate down. He noted how Hermione's head didn't turn up as quick as it normally would have. And he could tell that under that mass of curls that the girl was thinking, and thinking of something hard. He was bent on finding out. "What exactly is on your mind?" He asked, leaning forward placing his elbows on his knees. Ron seemed to have followed the same motion, leaning closer in as if they were all four year old kids getting ready for some kind of game, and wanting to know the rules. Even Ginny stepped in.

At first a bit unsure of whether or not to tell them all exactly what was on her mind Hermione bit her lower lip. Then, upon seeing the three of them leaning in she broke into a grin which was rather unlike her. She too set her plate down, and placed her hands on her knee's, looking at the three of her friends. "Harry - you remember what we were talking about? About Dumbledore being worried and all? I have no doubt that he's worried about what exactly we were talking about. It's all laid out. You're of age, Voldemorts probably plotting, and the Death Eaters await his orders. So…"

"Here it comes," Ron sighed.

"Ronald!"

"Sorry."

"Anyway," Hermione continued glaring at Ron now before her gaze shifted back to Harry, and she lowered her voice even more. "Dumbledore will be wanting to keep a close eye on you, correct? However, what he doesn't know is that by making me Head Girl-" (Hermione made a point of avoiding the wide eyed looks she was getting) "- It'll make things so much easier for ourselves to get around now."

"Are you saying that you're actually going to _sneak_ us around the school… per say, after hours?" Ron asked, arching an eyebrow as he looked at Harry and then to Hermione."

The girl smiled. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ron."

"Wait a minute," Harry said waving a hand before looking directly at Hermione. "If you're Head Girl, who's Head Boy?"

"No idea, it didn't say in the letter so I suspect I'll find out on the train." Hermione sighed. Ron snorted.

"With you're luck Hermione, you'll be lucky if they pair you up with Ernie. Merlin, I'd hate to see Malfoy as Head Boy."

"Ron, you're going to jinx it." Harry commented through a snicker at the mere thought of Draco Malfoy as Head Boy.

"Am not."

"Oh! Harry, look! Go open your presents now."


End file.
